


Parents, Teachers, Avengers

by Faeruy



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Competition, Friendship/Love, Multi, alternate universe - PTA, collage AU, crafty, decoupage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faeruy/pseuds/Faeruy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes just moved to the small community of Lighthouse, and immediately joined the PTA. There he strikes up a friendship with the mysterious divorcee, Natasha Romanoff, bonding over crafts. But things take a turn for the worse when a contest threatens to tear their friendship apart. Stuck in the middle of it all is their good-hearted but clueless friend Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parents, Teachers, Avengers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LyraNgalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyraNgalia/gifts).



> So this kind of based on a tumblr conversation. It's one of those things were somebody said something, and my brain went "That's so stupid, I HAVE to do it." So I did. It's silly, it's hopefully fast, it hopefully doesn't suck that bad (though it might, I haven't really done a lot of editing to it yet, though I probably will at somepoint). Enjoy! Or something. Lyra and IfIhadallthewords, I blame you.

“Now for new business; like it said in the flyer we sent home with your children last week, next month is the art auction to raise money for soccer uniforms. Also, continuing from last year, we shall be featuring art work from you the parents.  Unfortunately, because of an incident involving some rather…. inappropriate pieces from… someone who shall not be named, we shall be handling submissions a little bit differently this year.”  Maria paused for the reaction of her captive audience.  It was mostly disgruntled mumblings and more than a few pointed stares in the direction of one Mr. Stark.  No one could deny that he had a talent for wire-hanger sculpture but some things were just not fit for an elementary school auction. It ended up selling for quite a bit, but that was besides the point. At the podium, Maria’s smile just grew bigger as she continued to speak.

“This year, we’re turning it into a contest!  The top five will be shown and sold, and the winner, in addition to being featured, will get free VIP tickets to the event itself.  Doesn’t that sound like fun?!”

“Who’s going to judge? You?” A voice came from the back of the room. Maria winced inwardly, though the smile on her face stayed plastered on. She knew that voice well, that dark, vaguely ominous tone.  Natasha.  There were so many rumors about that woman, and no one knew what to believe for sure. There was talk that she was a Russian mail-order bride, and that her ex-husband was in the mob. Some said she was a spy, others said her husband was actually dead and she killed him. Most thought her red hair was fake. All anybody really knew was that she was rich, single and made the other parents nervous. Especially Maria.

“Actually, Steve Rogers has volunteered to judge the competition.  You all know Steve,right?”  Another murmur passed through the room, this time one of approval. Everyone knew Steve. Everyone liked Steve. He was nice to everyone, a good father to his adopted son Ian, considered to be a genuinely good guy, and the captain of the police in their small town. He would be fair, and everyone knew it. For the first time in the entire meeting, Maria’s smile didn’t feel forced.  “Excellent. I can’t wait to see you all come up with. Oh! One more thing before you all go, we have a new parent here tonight.  Bucky Barnes, will you please stand up?”  

A young-looking man with long brown hair got to his feet and looked around the room nervously.  His left arm hung awkwardly by his side and he gave a small wave with his right before sitting back down. Maria nodded approvingly.  He was new, but there were almost as many rumors about him as there were about Natasha. He denied ever being in the military, but he had the presence of a soldier, and everyone knew that his left arm was a prosthetic. Rumor had it was blown up by a landmine, though there were other theories involving a prison, torture, and special ops. There was also the fact that he and his son were staying with Steve Rogers.  The official story was that while Bucky had a new job, his wife had obligations back in New York for a while longer, so Steve offered to help out an old friend until things could get settled. Gossip said otherwise.  Maria refused to believe it though; she just figured it was the disgruntled imagination of a few of the other PTA moms who failed to catch the handsome man’s eyes. Most of them couldn’t believe how a man like Steve could be unattached, so of course there had to be something different about him.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. Lighthouse Elementary and it’s community embraced diversity in all of it’s forms. They would welcome Bucky with open arms.

“Natasha, you and Yelena have been here a few years now, haven’t you?  Why don’t you show our new friend the ropes?  Meeting adjourned!”

 

* * *

 

“So, Natasha, tell me… how did you get roped into joining the PTA?”  Bucky said as he tore up strips of tissue paper.  It had been two weeks since Maria Hill had forced the two of them to actually speak together. At first it was awkward, but they eventually discovered that they had many things in common, including a love of crafting. Currently they were working on what was going to be a birthday gift for Natasha’s step-daughter - a decoupage jewelry box.  Natasha did the gluing and varnishing while Bucky cut out shapes with both of them getting high off the fumes.  Natasha shrugged, and continued to focus on the box.

“Originally, it was my husband’s idea. ‘Something to do’ he said. ‘Maybe give you and Yelena something to talk about’.  Now I realize that he probably suggested it so I wouldn’t notice when he came home late at night, but that’s another story.  Now that he’s out of the picture… well, it would have been easy to stop caring, I suppose. But Yelena needs someone, and this… this is the best I can do.” She gestured about the room, flinging drops of varnish everywhere.  Natasha grinned sheepishly and carefully set the brush down and away from her.  “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Bucky grinned back. “We’re both wearing black for a reason, right?”

“I suppose so.  What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why did you join?”

“Ah… well… I guess… I don’t know.  I figured I should. Thought it was important, you know? Gotta set a good example for the kids. The wife works so much, and my job is… flexible, so it was easier for me to do it.”  Now it was Bucky’s turn to shrug.  Natasha tilted her head, curious. It was funny, they’d only known each other two weeks, but Natasha felt a kinship with her new neighbor, unlike anything she’d felt with anyone else in this town, save perhaps Steve Rogers.  Perhaps it was because he was like her; an outsider. Someone with a past that the others in the Lighthouse community could only speculate on. It didn’t hurt that he never once asked her if she was connected to the mafia.  But it could have been something more.  There was something there, nagging at her, that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“What is your job?” She asked.

“Ummm….”

“Don’t want the KGB finding out?”

“What?”  Bucky looked confused.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard those rumors?  Everyone thinks I’m some sort of Russian spy.  Like I’m from some sort of James Bond movie.  Idiots. The KGB doesn’t even exist anymore.”  Natasha snorted derisively.

“They’re probably just jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of… of...umm…”  The young man stuttered and looked down, trying to concentrate on the flower petal he was trying to cut out, but his hand shook and the edges were starting to look jagged and rough.  He lifted his left arm up; an instinctive gesture to try and steady things.  It only made things worse; one hand hit the other, and the scissors went flying towards Natasha, quicker than anything. She was faster.  Before either of them could blink, she had the scissors by the handle and a wry smile on her face.

“Careful now.” She said. She stood up and moved closer to Bucky. “Don’t want to hurt somebody, now do you?”

It was at point Bucky noticed just how close she was.  He could feel her breath on his neck, hear the huskiness in her voice. He could almost sense her heartbeat, strong and even, very different from his own fluttering rhythm.  She was very close.  And the other was so far away.

“Hi you two!”  A chipper voice came from the door. “Sorry, nobody was answering the front so I came around the back.  I hope that’s alright, Nat.”

The redheaded Russian woman straightened up, and Buck realized he hadn’t really been breathing.  

“Hi Steve!” Natasha said, with more warmth than usual.  “It’s fine.  You’re always welcome here.  We’re almost done here, just need to clean a few things up.  Want some coffee?”

“I would love some. Cream and sugar.” Steve sat down across from Bucky and started toying with one of the scraps of paper. “Hey, you thinking of entering the art contest with this?”

“Hmm?”  Natasha looked over her shoulder. “Oh, no. That’s for Yelena.  But I was thinking of doing something similar for the contest.”

“You were going to enter the contest with decoupage?” Bucky’s looked at her, with a hint of fear in his voice.

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s what I was going to do…”

Natasha turned, mug of coffee in her hand.  Her knuckles were white; she was gripping the mug so tightly it threatened to explode into ceramic shards right there.  Her green eyes held a look that made Steve seriously wonder if there was some truth to those rumors after all. He looked back at his old friend, and saw the same look in his eyes.  He suddenly wished he had a shield of some kind; something to hide behind when the violence inevitably broke out.

 

* * *

 

“You know Bucky, you don’t have to do this.” Steve watched as his housemate furiously cut and shredded paper.  Scraps covered the table, and though it made Steve’s eye twitch, he didn’t touch anything. The last time he tried to ‘help’, his friend just about tore his head off. So he decided to try a gentler approach.

“I do, actually.”

“Why?”

“Because….” Bucky heaved a sigh.  He stared for a moment at the pile of colored paper.  Steve didn’t say anything, just waited patiently. “Because, dammit, I have to prove that I’m worth something. Do you know how many times she’s threatened to leave me Steve? It may not be much, but if I can do this…. if I can win something, then maybe… maybe things will be okay.”

“But does it have to be that?” Steve said, gesturing to the table.  He wasn’t sure he agreed with Bucky’s reasoning.  In his mind, his friend would be better off leaving that woman altogether.  “Especially since Natasha’s doing the same thing.”

“Ah, that.” Bucky’s gaze drifted back down.  “Well… I have my own reasons for that.”

“And you’re not going to tell me.”

“Sorry buddy.  Nope.”

 

* * *

 

“Natasha, why?”

“Why what, Steve?”

“Why this determination to beat Bucky?”

“Playing favorites, are we, judge?”  The redhead’s lip curled into a sneer.  Steve sighed.

“No, no, I am not playing favorites.  I’m just curious as to why my two best friends have suddenly turned into a pair of Tasmanian Devils.” He took a swig of coffee and almost immediately spat it out again. He’d forgotten to ask for cream and sugar, and Natasha liked her coffee thick and strong.  She didn’t seem to notice though.

“Didn’t think you knew that cartoon.”

“I’ve caught a few here and there.  Now what gives?”

“It’s really none of your business Steve.”

“Like heck it ain’t.  Bucky’s living under my roof right now, remember?  I’m tired of finding paper scraps in my bed.”  That seemed to get her attention.  She looked up sharply, a confused expression on her face.

“But I thought…”

“Not what I meant.” He said, waving his hand. She didn’t stop staring though.  “There’s a lot of static electricity build-up for some reason.  You’re evading the question.”

“I don’t remember it.”

“Bull. You’re smarter than that and we both know it.”

“Fine.  Look, it really has nothing to do with Bucky.  I’m just tired of being thought of as this weird foreigner.  I’m tired of everyone looking at me like they’re afraid I’m going to kill them. I thought, maybe if I did something pretty, show them I’m normal like them, then I could just… blend in.”

“Uh-huh…”  Now it was Steve’s turn to look unconvinced.

 

* * *

 

The day of the contest.  So many parents, many looking strangely nervous.  Bored children ran around, barely paying any attention to the things on display. Most of it was crafty things; crayon art here, a few beaded creations, and more than a few decoupages on various canvas and boxes.  Tony Start even did another wire sculpture, though thankfully this one was relatively benign. Maria Hill stood next to Principal Fury and breathed a sigh of relief.  

“I think this might work out alright after all.” She said. Fury only murmured, though it was impossible to tell whether he agreed with her or not.

Steve was wandering up and down the table, not entirely sure what he was looking for.  He had volunteered to judge, because he knew that everyone trusted him to be fair, but that didn’t mean he knew anything about art. He rather hoped something would just jump out at him.

Funny though, he still hadn’t seen Natasha or Bucky’s work yet.

 

* * *

 

Natasha was running late.  Yelena had all of a sudden decided to act like a brat, and was refusing to have anything to do with her step-mother. It took all of her self-control not to slap the child. It took much cajoling and bribing before Yelena would get in the car, but Natasha was determined not to miss this.

“See you in there!”  She shouted as she sprinted off full speed with her entry in her hand.  That burst lasted all of about ten seconds before she hit something with all the force of a semi-truck.

“Watch it!” That voice, she knew. She looked down. Bucky was on the ground, clutching something to his chest with his right arm. “Christ, Romanoff are you trying to sabotage me?”

“Not intentionally, no…”   She said sheepishly.  She reached out a hand while keeping her piece clutched tightly to her chest. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Clearly.” He said, standing up with a grunt.  “So… what have you go there?” He gestured to her piece.

“Oh.. it’s just a music box, actually…” She offered it to him for inspection.  Bucky looked at the object in his hand and realized the difficulty of trying to handle both. With a wry grin, he handed over his piece to her before taking the box in hand.

“It’s pretty.”  He said after a moment.  And it really was.  The top of a box was like a fresco in miniature - a stage full of ballerinas dancing in tutus and tights.  All along the sides were swans; some in flight, some seeming to glide along in water. “Seems kind of familiar.”

“Yours does too.”  She said, turning over the ceramic plate he made in his hands.  Rather than the scene she had created, his was chaos incarnate.  It appeared to be a mess of images; of desert, of the dark, of blood, of fire.  There were postage stamps from all over the world, bits of old postcards.  It didn’t make sense, and yet at the same time there was an odd, compelling sort of focus to it.

“Wait a minute!  I know who you are!  You’re WynterSol!” She exclaimed.

“Hmm?”

“On Pintrest.  Your username is WynterSol, isn’t it?”  Natasha’s eyes shined, and the grin on her face threatened to overwhelm everything else.

“Maybe…”  Bucky tried to sound nonchalant, but there was no mistaking the laughter underneath.

“Did you know who I was?”

“Of course I did.”

“I love your work!  I ‘liked’ everything. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew.” The two of them just stared at each other for a moment, grinning like stupid teenagers. Suddenly, something poked Natasha in the back.

“I thought you were in a rush, mom.”  The bored-sounding blonde child said. It seemed to shake them both out of their reverie.

“Oh right, the contest!  We… we should talk later.”  Natasha said, and scurried off.

“Yeah….” Bucky said, more than a little dreamy. “Oh, yeah!”

Steve spotted both of them as they walked. He waved them over.

“About time you got here. I was starting to get worried you killed each other.” He said, clapping both of them on the shoulders. The trio slowly made their way to the table containing the other artwork.

“Well we almost did.”  Natasha said, shooting a glance at Bucky.

“What?”

“Natasha tried to run me over in the parking lot. Everything’s fine Steve. You have bigger things to worry about.  Like which one of us is going to win this particular contest.”

“Ummm…”

“You better pick me, Steve.”  Natasha glared at him.

“Hey, you’re going to treat your best friend this way?” Bucky hit his friend on the shoulder.

“Hey guys, on your left!”  A voice came from behind the trio.  “Some of us are trying show some damned art here.”


End file.
